


"Here comes your ghost again..."

by notjustmom



Series: Sherlock Christmas Ficlets 2017 [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Parentlock, Retirement, Sussex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 15:15:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12962214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: prompt 9: Ghosts of Christmas Past/Wrapped upa bit of the Box of 64 verse





	"Here comes your ghost again..."

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of squishy angst, title from 'Diamonds and Rust' written by Joan Baez

"Papa? Anything wrong?"

John turned from the stove and shook his head. "No. Just his ghosts. Christmas is -"

"Difficult?"

"Hmmm."

"Anything I can do?"

John shook his head and turned away. "Tea helps. Me. I - have learned to wait it out. He - prefers that I not - so I make sure he's wrapped up warmly and let him be. He always knows when he has the dreams, I don't want him to feel worse by coddling - yes, he sees it as coddling." He stopped speaking as the kettle sang out, he got out two cups and the tin of tea, and made two cups of tea. "Lily?"

Rosie shook her head. "Once she's asleep, she doesn't wake for anything."

"Must be nice..." John handed her her cup and they moved to the couch. 

"He once, one Christmas, when I was sick - told me a story about that Christmas with Mum. It was a load of rubbish, wasn't it?"

John ran his fingers through his thinning hair, then nodded. "He - that year - the year after he returned. It was hard on all of us, but, it was worst on him, he - he didn't know what to make of things, and I wasn't - as understanding as I could have been. I had met your Mum, and I had tried to go on with a life - a life without him, you have to understand, he and your Mum, they were complicated, he still is, though he's mellowed a bit. They -" He took a sip of tea, and Rosie sighed as she watched his left hand tremble.

"You don't - I shouldn't have - should have kept it to myself. I do know - I - went back and read things - no, not the blog, the actual press from the time - Uncle Myc keeps eve-ry-thing - I was curious, and he told me not to tell you or Da that I know - I wish - I just wish I could help him, and you. It just feels like we are so far away in London, we could - "

John put his cup on the table and shook his head. "You have your lives there, we are fine, better than, we - your Da and I have an understanding of those things, the things we can't, don't and won't talk about. He never wanted to ruin your Christmas - that's why he always went a bit -"

"Overboard?" Rosie chuckled into her tea.

"Yes. He always wanted it to be happy for you, good memories, even that one you were sick and missed everything - we did it all when you felt better, but he - your Da, doesn't want what he went through to be part of what he is to you - not sure that makes sense? So tomorrow, if he's a bit - curmudgeonly, or a bit -"

"Misty?" Rosie suggested.

"Hmm. Good word. Just hug him a bit tighter, love him a bit more, but don't -"

"He'll know - he always knows."

John shrugged. "Yes, but he probably won't ask, and he will appreciate the hug. I'm going to go back to bed, now, you should too - the damn rooster has his own schedule - drives your Da around the bend, but Molly gave him to Sherlock a few years back - he can't seem to -"

Rosie nodded and kissed his head, then took his cup from him, and whispered, "he's an old softie - both of you are - night, Papa."

"Night, Rosie."

 

"Ah, morning, Ro, good night's sleep?"

"Course, always sleep well here, now if you could just get the timer on that rooster worked out a bit better -"

"Yes, yes - I'm used to him I suppose -" He looked at her face and shook his head. "John -"

Rosie met his eyes and whispered, "don't, please. You don't have to explain anything. You don't owe me or anyone anything. I've always wanted to thank you - "

"What for, Ro?" Sherlock's voice had dropped to a low rumble.

Rosie leaned against him and slowly brought her arms around him, felt him tense, then relax as he returned the embrace. "For being here, now, for Papa, and me and Lily. You don't have to - your ghosts are your own, if that makes any sense? I don't need you to explain anything - I love you, so very much, Da. I hope you have never questioned that."

Sherlock sighed into her hair. "You don't know me, Ro."

"Yes, I do, Da, I know everything I need to know, you are Sherlock Holmes, retired Consultant Detective, still the only one there ever was, and you are my Da. I don't need to know anything else."

Sherlock pressed a kiss into her hair and whispered, "a very Merry Christmas, Ro."

"Merry Christmas, Da."


End file.
